Maxioms by Thomas Hood
Alas! the fleeting years, how they roll on!
Alas! the fleeting years, how they roll on!
O bed! O bed! delicious bed!
That heaven upon earth to the weary head.
O bed! O bed! delicious bed!
That heaven upon earth to the weary head.
Over the brink of it
Picture it--think of it,
Dissolute man.
Lave in it--drink read more
Over the brink of it
Picture it--think of it,
Dissolute man.
Lave in it--drink of it
Then, if you can.
Father of rosy day,
No more thy clouds of incense rise;
But waking flow'rs,
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Father of rosy day,
No more thy clouds of incense rise;
But waking flow'rs,
At morning hours,
Give out their sweets to meet thee in the skies.
A man perfect to the finger tips.
A man perfect to the finger tips.
